On the 28th of December 2015, my husband and I received the biopsy results showing that he has non-hodgkin’s MALT Lymphoma. I held back tears as I tried to process the words that I had just heard. “Lymphoma.” That’s not cancer, is it? It couldn’t be cancer. Maybe I misheard the doctor. Again, “MALT Lymphoma.” No, I heard him right. Cancer. The doctor went on to tell us how strange the situation was. In his 20 years of practice, he has only seen five of these cases. And the other four were all elderly patients. Not my 25 year old husband. Not my healthy husband. Here I am holding back tears, trying to remain strong, pacing back and forth in the cramped office trying my darnedest to keep Isla entertained so we could hear what else the doctor had to say. But then it all slowly started to make sense. Over the past year, his energy has been almost non-existent without the crutch of caffeine. His weight continually and steadily dropping. His loss of appetite. Finally we had an answer to all of it. Not the answer we wanted, but one we are beginning to digest.
So where are we now? In a bit of a limbo period. We’re still waiting on the insurance to approve his referral to the oncologist. The oncologist who will hopefully provide more details on his staging and the next steps we need to take for treatment. So in the meantime, we’re implementing everything we can control. Taylor has already switched over his diet to a Paleo/autoimmune protocol lifestyle. And as of this past weekend, I threw out all things that don’t fit into that food plan. Bye-bye sugar, gluten and dairy. Oh it’s been difficult detoxing. I feel like a sugar addict. No, I’m pretty sure I am a sugar addict. The past few days have been so hard but absolutely-no-doubt-in-my-mind worth it. We are a team and we will beat this cancer.